


Brief Visits to the Land of Fire

by Night-Mare (Aoife)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Author loves to chat in the Comments, Baby Steps into a New Fandom, General Hatake Wolfy Shenanigans, Hatake are Wolf Shifters, Knotting, M/M, Mating, Mating Bites, Not All Tags Apply to All Chapters, POV Third Person Limited, Tobirama's Jutsu Experiments, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2020-08-23 18:30:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20247370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Night-Mare
Summary: 1. Tsukuyomi (1/?)2. Tsukuyomi (2/?)The Uchiha copy jutsu; Tobirama lays a trap in the handsigns of his new jutsu3. Too HatakeTobirama is caught unawares by his instincts4. New Residents/Broken TreatyReclaiming. Tobirama/Hatake!OC5. HiraishinSakumo/Minato/Tobirama - Accidents with the Hiraishin and brand new instincts.





	1. Tsukuyomi (1/?) - Tobirama/Madara

Fuck this had to be a genjutsu, but how the hell had anyone caught him in one given his Sharingan? It was the only explanation he could think of why he had the white hair of Hashi’s little brother in his hands while his cock was surrounded in the tightest, wettest heat he’d ever experienced. How the hell was the brat so fucking good at this? Just enough teeth and tongue to feel really good, and his cock head massaged by the man’s throat, and those hands, nails digging into his thighs.

He thrusts twice, enjoys the way the brat chokes around his cock and starts to empty himself down his throat, and wakes up with a frustrated scream as the genjutsu dissolves into the spiteful fragments of a broken tsukuyomi. He doubles over himself, the pleasure sharp and vicious, hand desperately milking the remains of his orgasm from his body, and tries desperately to remember the clan’s Mangekyō Sharingan wielders and their specialities. 

The only problem was he couldn’t think of anyone still alive who wielded the damn skill other than him. Shit. He scrubs his eyes and makes use of the jug of water and a small fireball to clean up the evidence of his midnight … pleasure. 

_“SENJŪ! SENJŪ!”_

He curses again, and pulls on his armour, snatching up his gunbai, and a handful of the explosive tags that one of his men had been working on based on something he’d seen Hashi’s little brother paint - he’d given the man a promotion for managing _that_ without getting killed - and charged them as he ran; hopeful they’d been changed enough that the pretty brat wouldn’t detonate them while he was sparring with Hashirama.

The battle turns into its normal farce; he burns Hashirama’s mokuton creations almost as fast as he can create them, and then breaks out Susanoo when the over-friendly idiot starts to get indiscriminate with his summonings; less for his own safety and more because people were edging to close to their sparring match and Hashi would be miserable if he killed anyone, and why was he starting to sound almost _fond_ of the opposing clan leader? Had the damn tsukuyomi not broken completely?

His sharingan spins faster, a spike of pain going through his head as it shifts to the mangekyō form and locks onto the battle between Izuna and the white demon brat; there’s something - he swears and overreaches himself as the immediate future spreads in front of his mind’s eye, barely missing one of Hashi’s mokuton spikes in favour of yanking Izuna out of the battle before he can complete the hand seal sequence he’d started.

“You _idiot_.” He shakes his younger brother, pulsing enough chakra through his system to disrupt his coils temporarily, and then glares at Tobirama over the idiot’s head, almost getting caught by those brilliant red eyes. Not sharingan eyes, but so pretty. “Both of you. Fucking _idiots_. Hashi, take yours home before I put _both_ of them over my lap. I _recognised_ that damn jutsu and the only fucking person Izuna could have learnt it from is _him_ -”

“- if you know it, -”

“I made it _kinjutsu_ within the clan. No one is permitted to teach it anymore.” 

“You still want our dream then -”

“- no more dead little brothers.”

“Ceasefire?”

“Hn.” He chucks the pretty brat at his friend, and flares his chakra in a general retreat signal, picking up his still shaken younger brother, and leaps away, leading the clan back to their compound.


	2. Tsukuyomi (2/?) - Tobirama/Madara

“I should tie you to one of the practise posts and beat you like our chichi used to, Izuna.” He’s so fucking tired. Tired of _everything_. “Did you know what that jutsu would do?” 

His brother looks up at him, his eyes red, the tomoe spinning lazily and he resists the urge to exactly what he’d just threatened to do. But the lazy spin of his brother’s eyes speeds up, and he shuts his own, unwilling to engage in that particular battle of wills right now.

“… spit senbons, the way Tobirama did last time we faced off? Except if that’s all it did you wouldn’t have given me a fucking concussion and coil burns, would you, aniki?” Izuna doesn’t sound at all contrite, and he turns, snarling, eyes open, his own Sharingan alight and spinning into it’s Mangekyō form. “And it can’t have been about stealing the demon’s jutsu; we do that all the time.”

“_Tsukuyomi_.” It’s the only thing that would get through to Izuna. He sets his nightmare on Izuna, spins it in the worst possible way, and his idiot brother doesn’t even try to break it as he burns the world to ground in the bid to bring perfect peace to everyone. He’s never driven its foretelling this far, but he needs Izuna to understand. (It hurts, like a knife being driven into his eyes.) They break apart, panting, the black fire of Izuna’s Amaterasu licking at his clothes but not burning, not burning yet, but threatening to set him alight.

“A suicide jutsu - sages, I modify his stupid jutsu for our fire -”

“It’s not the first time you’ve done it.”

Izuna gives him a speaking look, Sharingan still lazily spinning. “How the fuck do you think I survive him, brother? I swear he got all the brains in their family; if I couldn’t turn his jutsu back on him, we’d have all gone to the grave by now.”

“So the question becomes did he do it deliberately, or accidentally?”

“… does this mean you’re not going to tie me to the practise post?” 

“No. You deserve it. The little ones can practise their genjutsu on you.”

“_Aniki_.” Izuna whines, and it amuses him. 

“Just think of the boost to their confidence when they overcome you, otouto.”

“Hn.” He ties Izuna to the post for that, and sends one of the guards for the little ones. (Young enough that he’s kept them off the battlefield, young enough that they have no Sharingan and the only genjutsu they will catch his little brother in will taste of sweets and childish giggles, and perhaps Izuna will remember what it is they both want.) He waits just long enough to see the little ones stream onto the training ground, and to give them - and their sensei - their instructions, and then vanishes into the woods on the silent feet of his summons. He had a friend to scold.


	3. Too Hatake (1/?) - Tobirama/Madara

The smell catches him completely unaware; he’s running back to the compound after an extended diplomatic mission with the Nara, and he’s mentally exhausted, but it curls into his brain and he finds himself diverting from the most direct route home in order to chase it down. Given the smell, it’s likely to be a wounded stag, whose meat will be welcomed by the clan, and he’s been craving venison fiercely; too much Hatake blood, and too long being taunted by the Nara deer. 

(He’d didn’t feel his Hatake blood often; he didn’t have their chakra or their lightning affinity, but sometimes, when he was tired, instincts that weren’t quite human would prod at him. Given a choice he wouldn’t have spent a month with the Nara, but sending Hashirama or Touka to negotiate with them would have been a bad idea.)

He chases the scent down, suddenly hungry, and something clicks in the back of his head. It’s a semi-ominous sensation, but he’s locked onto _the_ most delicious scent and he’s too tired to resist the urge to chase, even though his chakra is flaring in the _strangest_ way. Normally he’s water natured, but his energy feels almost electric in the way it’s shifting under his skin. 

He barely registers the shift from two feet to four paws, or the way the white fur - his birth gift from the Hatake - rippling and covering his skin. (That he doesn’t notice the shift will alarm him, later, but only make his Hatake cousins laugh, hysterically. He wonders if they would have stolen him away if he’d shifted when he was younger.) The scent in his nose is even stronger than it had been earlier, and he pushes more of his chakra into his muscles, lending him a burst of speed that has him leaping between tree branches as he closes in on the _delicious_ smell.

He pounces, teeth bared, and the shinobi goes down under him, red armour no match for chakra enhanced claws, and the blood tastes so good when it splashes onto his muzzle. His chakra bursts from his skin, bright and white and scorchingly hot even against his skin, and releasing that much undirected-chakra should have him panting, winded, reaching for the hiraishin to get some distance from whoever it is he’s fighting. But it doesn’t. It leaves him invigorated, hungry in a different way, the man beneath him naked, human skin, bloody, pressed against his pure white pelt, and he’s confused as to whether he’s supposed to rend and tear, or drive himself inside it with a harsh thrust. He settles for both, holding the man in place with chakra and teeth as he shifts his hips, the tip of his cock sliding against sweat-slick skin until it lodges and he snaps his hips forward.

There’s a scream, but he rides the way the body beneath him bucks, teeth still lodged in his prey’s shoulder and the feel of hot tight flesh convulsing around his cock. He ruts frantically into the sheath around his cock, laps at the blood oozing from his partner’s shoulder and then he’s stuck, a knot forming at the base of his cock, locking him in place, and he pants in pleasured exhaustion as he shifts back from wolf to human, sprawled over his new mate’s back. (Mate is not his choice of word, but it feels _right_.) He rests his head against the bloodied shoulder, tries to figure out what happened, why he’s got a mouthful of blood and his cock _locked_ \- with a knot he’s never had before - inside another man. 

“Fuck.” The voice sounds familiar, and the hips beneath him shift, dragging a snarl from his throat that surprises both him and the man he’s tied to. “Goddamn Hatakes. There aren’t supposed to be any of you on Uchiha lands even if you aren’t Senjū allies anymore -”

“Madara?!” His voice is higher-pitched than it’s been since he was a teen, and the hips beneath him shift again, causing his knot to tug at the vulnerable ring of flesh it’s wedged beyond. His chakra is still white, still crackling like Lightning, prickly to his touch, and he assumes it’s the only reason he hasn’t been recognised and flambéd. “I was hunting food -”

“You sound familiar -” he’s tempted to snarl an ‘of course I sound familiar, you idiot, I try and kill Izuna on a regular basis’ but decides that discretion is the better part of valour sometimes. Fire-natured chakra - with far more yin mixed into it that there ever was on the battlefield - washes over him as if Madara’s searching for something and maybe there’s an actual brain under all of that soft fluff masquerading as his hair? 

Whatever the Uchiha’s looking for, he finds it, and for that matter, why didn’t he rip the Uchiha’s spine out when he had a chance? His bite had gotten perilously close to severing something important, yet he hadn’t taken that final step; he’d chosen a different one, and he’s _confused_. Madara rolls beneath him and makes a broken pleasured sound as the movement shifts them both and his cock is making absolutely no complaints about things. 

But humans aren’t supposed to do and take what he just did to the older man, and there was a reason he hadn’t killed him, and it wasn’t so he could die of acute peritonitis. Which meant that he should probably figure out if he had enough control to use his yin chakra through the haze of Lightning that was coating everything including his ability to sense anything more than six feet away. It slips and slides from his grasp in a way that’s infuriating and has him growling at the back of his throat, Madara’s chakra flaring in response, an instinctive submission that had him even more confused than he had been.

“You need to heal yourself. I can’t make my chakra behave -”

“- _Senjū_.” The word is spat, and he’s really not surprised. The way that Madara’s chakra reacts? Now that’s a surprise, and he buries his head in soft black hair and rides the way that Madara writhes beneath him, presumably trying to get his hands on him to strangle him? It does feel amazing, though, his knot keeping him firmly anchored inside the Uchiha and he was going to have to interrogate his cousins. Later. Much later. Maybe when he’d cum again. “I didn’t realise you were _this_ Hatake. Did _you_ realise you were?”

He turns over the pieces in his head, puts them together, feels yin chakra in the flesh his cock is still firmly embedded in, healing the tears he’d inflicted, the way that Madara seems almost calm again despite the way he’d bucked and squirmed under him. “My mother was Hatake.” There’s a snort from his mate.

“_Hashirama’s_ half Hatake? And Butsuma caught a Hatake wolf - you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“No he’s fully Senjū. Kaa-chan was Butsuma’s second wife and a treaty-bride, and why the fuck am I telling you any of this?”

“You’re Hatake.” He makes another of those low growls that has Madara’s chakra flaring in submission, confused as to why the Uchiha thought that was an answer. “I assume she couldn’t shift. The treaty-bride that came to the Uchiha couldn’t. Did she not teach you the lore anyway?” He groans and buries his head in Madara’s dark hair. “I’ll take that as a ‘partially’. And be grateful I know and have some Hatake blood. Or you’d already be burning, Senjū.”

“Niisan’s going to be intolerable.”

It takes Madara moment to realise what he means. “Fuck, he is, isn’t he. Almost as bad as my otouto will be.” The body under him goes limp, and he can almost hear the wheels spinning in his head. And then there’s a flare of chakra - the summoning jutsu - and a small nin-neko appears. Fortunately, his instincts don’t try to demand that he chase it; he suspects that would piss Madara off far more than being hunted like a particularly tasty stag for some reason. “Tell Izuna that I’ve got to see great-grandmother’s clan. Something from one of the old treaties came up. He tries to follow and he goes in the koi pond.”

“Your otouto will likely end up in the koi pond anyway.” The nin-neko flicks her tail. “He annoys the kunoichi far too readily for anyone’s sanity, and like any sensible queen would, they’re training the silly kitten to behave.” Madara snorts. “You will summon me somewhere _safe_ when you get to the wolves. The queens will wish to know you’re content with your tom.” The nin-neko vanishes before either of them can respond to her and Madara sighs.

“You may have to refill the pond for me when we return.”

“Why -”

“Great-grandmother hunted and kept her husband, and two of their children went back to the Hatake because they shifted, and that was part of the negotiations. I _know_ what it means that you caught me, but I won’t leave my clan -”

“- _I don’t understand!_” His Chakra flares, coaxing another answering flare from Madara’s. 

“The great Senjū genius not knowing something. This is hilarious.” He sets his teeth back to the wound he seems to have gnawed into the Uchiha’s shoulder; he’s not sure why it’s so pleasing to him to taste the man’s blood, but given the way that Madara goes limp again, he’ll have to keep doing it. “Shit. Stop doing that. I can’t _think_.” 

He suspects that’s the point as far as his instincts are concerned. 

His cock finally softens, the knot at the base of it that had kept him so firmly tied to the Uchiha releasing, and he rolls away from Madara, somehow trusting that he wouldn’t get a kunai to his throat now that he was no longer pinning him. “Explain.”

“No. We’re going to the Hatake, even if I have to tie you up in chakra wire and carry you there.” A shiver goes up his spine, at the idea, and Madara laughs. “Perhaps that shouldn’t be a threat, but a promise, Tobi-kun. It would certainly save my arse from being mounted again until I can study the appropriate jutsu.” He snaps his jaws, body twisting under his chakra’s influence and lunges for the Uchiha again, sending them both tumbling in the dirt and leaving him frustrated when his mate - his _bitch_ \- doesn’t present properly. “Hatake. Jutsu. _Treaty_.” Madara rolls beneath him, fighting what had to be instincts almost as strong as his, and his eyes whirl into the mangekyo and a genjutsu drags him down into oblivion.


	4. New Residents/Broken Treaty - Tobirama/Hatake!OC

He should recognise the teen sitting cross-legged at the end of his bed, he really should, but the Mask is a request for anonymity, and he clamps down on his senses harshly, tilting his head in curiosity. That earns him a series of hesitant signs that he has to concentrate to follow, and he blushes at what their combat language is being twisted to say.

“If that’s what you need -”

«Please.»

He holds out his arms, and his intruder flows into them, fully dressed form pressing against his naked form through the thin blanket. It feels odd not kissing, but it just allows his mind to focus on other details, like the shape of the mask and its chill against his skin, and the weight of the other over him, their burning heat, and the way that temptation coiled at the base of his spine. 

“There’s lube between the futon and the wall.” His visitor reaches up, over him and finds the bottle - half-filled; he has needs and likes and he’s not ashamed of _either_ \- and makes a pleased and surprised sound that he’s sure he recognises from somewhere unexpected. He’s fairly confident this isn’t any of his clanmates, but given the colour of their hair it’s not an Uchiha at least, and if they’re in the compound, they had to be an ally, right? Especially given his Suiton was becoming well known.

His visitor sighs and shakes their head, sitting back on their heels and signing something that makes him blink. 

“I don’t follow.” The hands slow, some of the shapes changing slightly, as if his masked visitor was having to force themselves to use the right sign language. His eyes widen and he laughs, half in amusement. “If you want me to stop overthinking things, Hatake-chan, you’ll have to find a way to distract me. I assume the mask is so you don’t bite me, as well as being for anonymity?” 

His visitor nods and sighs, and then forms the hand signs for a jutsu, working through the hand signs slowly enough that he can follow them and not overreact. He appreciates the gesture and sits up just enough to reach out and touch the other gently, trying to assess what the jutsu had done - there’d been a definite flare of chakra - and is flattered at the way his intruder shivers. 

«I think I can do that.» The blanket is swept away, his visitor shedding his pants somewhere along the way, and he hisses as the Hatake sinks down onto his cock. Fuck. What sort of perverts were his cousins that they had a jutsu for _that_?! «There are lots of jutsu for sex, cousin. And reproduction. You didn’t think that it was only useful for battle and healing.»

He opens his chakra senses up, just a little, and white fire crackles over his skin carrying Hatake-chan’s Lightning affinity with it, making his skin prickle. “Fuck.”

«That’s the idea. Think of this as a compatibility check.»

The meanings of the signs were coming easier as he remembered the ones he’d been taught when he was little, before he’d had to learn the Senju set. He shuts his eyes as they sink in, hands clenching the bedding, and the Hatake sat on his cock stretches, starting to ride him achingly slowly. “For what?”

«Just how Hatake you are.»

“Why?” He doesn’t get an answer, just the lean, muscular form of one of his cousins - _distant_ cousins; he has no Hatake cousins closer than the third-degree - moving over him, body massaging his cock in the very best way. It’s on a par with the oiran that was paid to initiate him. His cousin reaches down, catches up his hands and he gives in and rolls them under him. He can’t kiss his partner, but he can make sure he enjoys it, can look - and take - his fill of pretty muscles, and the desperate way his cousin is panting as he drives his cock into his slick passage. “Am I allowed to bite?”

His partner nods enthusiastically, and he slides a hand between them to grip Hatake-chan’s cock and stroke it over and over again until his partner is squirming beneath him desperately, hanging on the edge of an orgasm, and then he flicks his thumbnail and there’s a scream from the man beneath him as his body clamps brutally tight around him. Cum pulses between them, and he blinks in confusion as he feels a swelling form at the base of his cousin’s cock. 

Clawed fingers dig into his back as his cousin keeps cumming, and he gives in, ruts into him, and gasps as fire rips through his system, somehow even more intense than he’d ever experienced. “Fuck -” he bites down on his cousin’s collarbone, desperate for a point of sanity as his cock catches inside his partner. Fingers thread through his hair, petting him gently, and there’s an amused chuckle in his ear. 

“_Very_ compatible. We will accept Hashirama’s invitation, cousin. And we would like you to be one of the alpha pair of the Konoha pack.” How would that even work? And how had he suddenly acquired a knot? “Cat got your tongue?”

“But I’m the Senju heir -”

“And your mother’s marriage contract promised a minimum of two children. One for the Senju, one for the Hatake -” his partner pushes up his mask, and dips his head to press a teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth. “- and the Senju have resolved the other breaches in our treaty.”

“We have?!” He jerks upright; he can’t help it. “- I didn’t know it was breached. How the hell did I not know it was breached?” He’s dragged back down, his cousin settling his full weight on him and his hands flashing through a summoning jutsu. He’s not surprised when he’s buried under a pile of wolves, not if being the foundation for a new pack is what he’s been tested _for_. He settles back down; given the size of the wolves, he’s not moving until they’re ready for him to do so.

“Your father breached it, but you were needed and it was easy to let it lie dormant. Now you invite us to Konoha, so we’ll take advantage of it. It’s not like it’s a hardship, is it?” He should grumble about being taken advantage of, but he’s buried under a pile of Hatake wolves, finally warm, and with a pretty partner tied to his cock by a knot he didn’t know he had. “I checked. You don’t have a mate; you’re Hatake enough for the wolves, and for there to be _pups_, and this way we’ll have a new hunting range like we were always supposed to.” 

“_Pups?_” He reaches out with his chakra sense, gingerly - reaching past the white fire still crackling over his skin, sensitising it - and sinking his chakra into the cousin over him, and finds a number of tiny fragments of chakra sparkling under the white fire.

“Ah. That wasn’t just for lubrication. Either they’d take, and you’d be Hatake, or we’d have just had a fun little interlude.”

“Hence the mask -” he pushes it up, lifting it cleanly off his cousin’s head. “- if we go again, can I persuade you to bite back? I think I might rather enjoy it.” His cousin throws his head back and howls a laugh that has the wolves blanketing them shifting in disturbingly sensuous ways. 

“_Such_ a Hatake. We should have come for you the moment that his mokuton would no longer kill Hashirama. I could have had a dozen litters from you by now -” he sinks his hands into silvery hair, and drags him back into a kiss that’s deep and messy, and his cock is finally softening, or his cousin relaxing because he can shift and the wolves are letting him. “- want me to fuck you and bite you now, Tobirama, or wait for the formalities to be complete?”

“Use a different jutsu.” 

“Of course. Only one of us should have pups at a time unless we have a full pack to stand guard over the den.” One of the wolves snorts and nips at human fingers. “You know what I mean. And we should get you your own summons -” one of the other wolves howls, conjuring up a chakra storm, and his cousin covers him. “Pants. Pants are important. And don’t summon people when they’re tied!”

He covers them both with a henge, and there’s a sigh of relief from the Hatake he’s apparently agreed to be mated with - and whose name he _still_ doesn’t know - before he’s pounced on by two apparently teenage pups that feel _very_ familiar. Too familiar. “How can they be spirit wolves?”

“What did you think our summons were?”

“You mean -”

“They’re Hatake. We all come here, afterwards, at least for a little while. We may not stay, but they were motivated.”

«Nii-san! Tobi-nii! Can we? Can we please?» He reaches out hesitantly and Kawarama butts against his hand, positioning his ears to be scritched, and he does so, almost on autopilot.

His lips curve, and he flops back, letting his little brothers pile on top of him the way they did when they were still human-alive, and Itama squirms under his other hand until he’s scritching both of them. “You have to hide until we can prank Hashi, otouto. And absolutely _no_ reverse-summoning or self-summoning if I’m naked.” Howls of glee ripple around the area, and his new mate - whose name he _still_ doesn’t know nudges his brothers out of the way enough for him to sprawl next to him.

“Welcome home.”


	5. Hiraishin - Sakumo/Minato/Tobirama -POV Tobirama

He snarls, his senses making it clear the last of his students was safely away from the Kinkaku, and pours the small portion of the Hatake chakra he possessed, chakra he’d never found a good use for (beyond making it easier to master Raiton), but all he had left into one of his Hiraishin Daggers. He intended for it blow-up, to take the Kinkaku with him, but that’s not what it does. Instead, the world whirls around him, the raiton killing the Kumo nin, and he arches, howling as the raiton courses through his veins as well, back almost snapping as it scorched every nerve in his system before stopping abruptly, just as he slammed into _something_. 

The world is fuzzy, colourless, his senses blunted by the overloaded Seal, but he finds his footing. On _four_ feet? He’s confused; he has Hatake blood, but he’d barely had more than a thimbleful of their chakra, had always thought it just responsible for his sensory abilities. He’d never dreamed he might be as capable of shifting as the wolf-nin were; assumed that they’d checked and that was why he’d been left with the Senju rather than claimed back as the inter-clan treaties invariably allowed for those with kekkei genkai. He follows his nose to water, and eyes himself in the smooth surface, not surprised at what he sees; his grandmother’s pelt, when she could still shift, had been pale, so it made sense for his own to be, too. His chakra’s low; low enough that he can’t figure out how to undo whatever the overloaded Seal had done. 

His best hope for that was Konoha; several of his Hatake kin had chosen to den there long enough to raise cubs, and they would be able to talk him through resuming human form. Or Mito would be able to unspool the Seal he’d used, especially if he let her see the full extent of his notes on the Hiraishin. That decided, he lopes towards the bonfire of Fire chakra - most of the residents of Konoha had Fire natures - hopeful to find his cubs and some sort of assistance with his current predicament.

Konoha isn’t how he left it. The way he’d approached the village should have brought him in through Hashirama’s private gardens - terrifying, but responsible for getting them through two truly awful winters, even if the harvest had required shinobi skills - but instead, before he’d even reached the garden boundaries, enforced by his seals, he finds himself in a training area. A training area that hadn’t been there when he’d left on the mission, _and_ one that was currently occupied.

By a tiny blond that didn’t seem to have any clan blood - or at least any that was supposed to be in Konoha at the moment - wearing the leaf’s hitai-ate, all its hidden loyalty Seals intact. And experimenting with Hiraishin. Or at least a version of it, though he didn’t seem to be able to jump more than twenty-feet at a time with it. Wind natured; that might be the problem with the Seal, especially if the blond wasn’t used to using yin release in combat. He slinks forward, curious - this wasn’t an illusion; his incorporation of Seals into the hitai-ate had gone undetected so far; even the Uchiha hadn’t spotted them - and intent on gathering more information.

Which was probably a mistake. He thought he’d gotten used to being a wolf during the run back to Konoha - he’d even managed to catch and kill several rabbits without using chakra - but apparently, that hadn’t been all of what he’d needed to get used to. The blond smelt far too tasty, and then he’s spotted, and the teen tries to use the still incomplete Hiraishin and he pounces before he can really think about what he’s doing, the white Hatake chakra flashing out, and the teen beneath him moaning in unconscious need, chakra running wild through his system, yang and fūton spiking erratically and twining with the Hatake chakra in a way that has him shivering and howling, arousal chasing what chakra he’s scraped together during the run. 

He sinks into tight heat, unable or unwilling to do anything other than follow his instincts, and ruts, desperately; the scent of arousal at least tells him that the shinobi he’s mating is enjoying himself as he chases his completion, the wildly flaring fūton and yang release pooling around his cock, warming him through rather than rejecting his use of the slim body beneath him. He finds his completion with a howl, unfamiliar anatomy flaring, locking him close to the body beneath him despite his dawning awareness of exactly what he’d just done. Before he can overthink things, his knot is loosening and he’s slammed into by another, larger wolf, comfortingly familiar, and he submits, unfamiliar instincts still riding him, only to watch the blond teen be rutted into by the other Hatake. (A cub curls up next to him and he’s confused; Sakumo had only been a cub when he’d left Konoha with his students on the mission that had blown up on them, and now Sakumo was an adult, with a cub of his own? Something had gone wrong with the Hiraishin, clearly. Perhaps the Hatake chakra had overloaded the time component of the Seal.) He grooms the cub, coaxing him into turning away from where the pretty blond bitch was being mounted and knotted by the cub’s father; clearly Sakumo had mated and lost his mate in his absence. 

The cub nuzzles into him, and it’s warm and comforting, and wisps of Hatake chakra wrap around him, and he barks a laugh as he realises the cub is attempting to coax him into changing forms. He doesn’t want to; doesn’t want to face what it means that Sakumo is grown, nor that he’d taken and mounted one of the shinobi that were his to protect without courting them properly. But Sakumo shifts back, cradling the pretty blond bitch - he smelt so good, so tempting; he wanted to mount him again and again, but he had a cub curled in close to him, and the soft milky scent of Sakumo’s cub killed his arousal - and sighs. “Kakashi, we need to get your sensei somewhere a little more private; he attracted the attention of one of our wild cousins.” The cub flopped on him huffs quietly. “Yes, I know I’ve been stalking your sensei, too, but he’s been doing a very good job of mothering you and I would have _asked_, first.” The cub snorts, and shakes his head, and Sakumo sighs. “Cousin, if you’re not going to change back, then at least pick up my cub and follow me, -” he huffs again, but there’s a definite ring of ‘alpha’ in Sakumo’s voice, and it forces him to push to his feet and catch the cub up by his scruff. “- can you still shunshin, cousin, or do I need to keep myself to a run?” 

He shapes his chakra into the form requires for shunshin, and almost yelps and drops the cub he’s carrying when he succeeds. Sakumo laughs and shunshins, and he follows to a small, very Hatake compound abutting the training area. He follows Sakumo into the compound, and into the house, Kakashi still scruffed, and the Hatake alpha sighs and puts his pretty blond bitch down on a futon, shaping a ninjitsu of some sort. The blond immediately smells less enticing and settles fully into sleep, and he drops Kakashi and whines.

“I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt, cousin, and assume you’re mission born, and that’s why you lost control. And why you’re not changing back.” He dips his head, not liking the way that Sakumo’s chakra was pressing against him. “Kakashi, I want you to go and ask Jiraya and Kushina to meet us for lunch; we’re going to need both of them I think. And see if Mito-obaa-san will join us if she’s willing. Can you do that for me, cub?” Kakashi nods, and then barks, making Sakumo laugh. “Sure. Reporting your sensei as ill to the jounin station makes sense, too. This is going to take a while to sort out.” Another bark from the cub makes the alpha snort. “Go terrorise the Uchiha, pup. But if you get your tail singed -” the cub huffs, and vanishes, leaving him alone with the Hatake alpha. 

Chakra, intense and blindingly white curls around him, Sakumo’s fingers flashing through a long sequence of hand-signs that has fire scorching along his veins and his body changing shape even as he tries to resist. 

“_Niidaime?!_” He collapses to the ground, every muscle on fire and blood pooling beneath his body from the wounds from the Kinkaku force, and Sakumo curses, kneeling with iryou chakra coating his fingers. “Don’t you fucking dare die on me; nobody’ll fucking believe me if you’re not there to explain how Minato ended up a Hatake breeding bitch; we’re supposed to have given up the practise.” Sakumo’s hands burn where they press against his skin, and he whines. “People will think I snapped and the punishment will be death; especially as Minato is a candidate to be the Yondaime Hokage.” Breathing comes easier as the wounds heal. “Given you’re supposed to have been dead for close to three decades, Tobirama-itoko, what happened?”

“Overloaded a Hiraishin Seal with what Hatake chakra I had.” The words are hoarse, and he curls his fingers, trying to reaccustom himself to human form. “Think it broke the time portion of the Seal. Woke up a week ago in wolf form. Came home for help. The blond - Minato? - was using something derived from my Seals and smelt so good. Pounced. Body was thinking for me.”

Sakumo sighs and rolls his shoulders. “I didn’t realise he’d gotten it working. I can see where that would have felt like an acknowledgement and permission to our kekkei genkai, too. You didn’t teach that to any of the cubs you trained, did you?” He shakes his head. “And from what I remember, you never shifted before whatever happened, did you? I know the clan history say the reason your kaa-san was willing to mate Butsuma was because she couldn’t either -” He hums in acknowledgement. “- so I think that we can cover you under the clauses in our Clan treaty that account for our wild and mission born cousins. You might have to shake your foster cubs by the scruff until they acknowledge that they exist, though.”

“Foster cubs - is Hiruzen still Hokage? He must be, you said Minato is a candidate to be Yondaime.” 

“He has Koharu and Danzo as advisors.” He winces; he’d have preferred Kagami to be advising Hiruzen if he’d had to have picked one of them. It would provide balance, and keep the Uchiha from feeling imposed upon to be one of the voices whispering directly in the Hokage’s ear. “Not your choice of which of your cubs to be village alphas, itoko?”

“Given that despite Madara’s insinuations I quite liked the younger Uchiha, I’d have preferred Danzo to be a long way away from Hiruzen. His response to Kagami’s Sharingan was … erratic.” Sakumo sighs and facepalms, and the blond on the bed squirms, moaning. “Is Minato okay?”

“The chakra you fucked into his system is going to keep burning through his veins until he’s full of as many pups as he can carry. The only way you can relieve it is to mount him again, itoko. And keep mounting him until he stops smelling like a fertile bitch.” He makes a small whine at the back of his throat and moves towards Minato, only for Sakumo to step between them, making a small unconscious snarl. “Sorry. I’d been trying to figure out how to court him, -“ Minato reaches for them blindly, and Sakumo huffs. “- do you have enough control now so we could share him, itoko? As we knotted him as wolves, if you do, we could share him as humans. But that only works if you aren’t going to spontaneously shift again and try to rip my throat out.”

“I think I do. You’re alpha -“ 

“- get on the futon then. You can be on the bottom; it’ll help with the temptation.” He complies, tugging the squirming blond over his body, and onto his cock; Sakumo snorts and joins him, fingers pressing into the blond, testing the way he’d been stretched by their knots, and then pushing his cock inside him as well. It makes Minato ridiculously hot and tight, barely suitably slick for what was happening, but from the ripples and the desperation in the lithe blond’s chakra, he was comfortable enough. He has little leverage to rut into the slick tight hole he’s buried in - and fuck, the instincts his broken Seal had awoken were _vicious_, because he’s desperate to fuck in a way he’s never been, even at the height of puberty. But Sakumo takes mercy on him, rolling his hips, stroking their cocks against each other inside their pretty breeding bitch, and he makes incoherent sounds as his hormones take back over again. He can feel the white chakra gathering under his skin prickling almost painfully as his wolf tried to get out, to take the blond again, to knot him and he fights the urge, snapping at his alpha before giving in and biting Minato. The blood and the convulsive orgasm from the blond soothes his wolf again, and his alpha chuckles and keeps moving, driving him half crazy.

When the knock on the door comes, the three of them are sprawled on the bed, his hormones far closer to sated, bites ringing Minato’s neck, and Sakumo amused. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d fucked the lithe blond, even shifting twice and knotting him again, with his alpha’s hand on his scruff to prevent him taking it to far. He reaches out with his senses, huffing softly at the feel of very familiar chakra; that was Mito-nee, and Kakashi-kun, and he probably should pretend to be a human rather than a rut-hungry wolf.


End file.
